


Fix You

by Charity_Angel



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: (again), F/M, Iz has appeared now, M/M, Medical Procedures, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, apparently i left iz out, malex are trauma survivors, max is a guinea pig, non-graphic, not on purpose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-01-25 14:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18576655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charity_Angel/pseuds/Charity_Angel
Summary: In which there is a giant conspiracy to fix something Jesse Manes broke a long time ago.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [MICHAEL DECIDES TO GET HIS HAND FINALLY HEALED, BUT TO DO THAT SOMEONE HAS TO RE-BREAK IT FIRST. *CUE THE TERRIBLE FLASHBACKS*](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/475867) by signoraviolettavalery, lynati, ubiestcaelum, anon prompter. 



> Inspired by [a tumblr post](https://lynati.tumblr.com/post/184195699187/michael-decides-to-get-his-hand-finally-healed). I'd actually forgotten the bit about flashbacks when I finally got around to writing this. If anyone has any concerns about content, there is some stuffs in the end notes.
> 
> Title filched in true Roswell style from Coldplay.

Max knows that questions would be asked if Michael’s hand were to be magically healed now – it’s one of those things that everyone knows about him: genius, mechanic, flirts with everything, busted left hand. He also knows that he couldn’t heal it now if he tried, because Michael’s body has done the healing for itself, as best it could under the circumstances. The body is no longer broken, even if it isn’t right, and that’s not how Max’s ability works. He works with broken things.

But it hurts him to see Michael in pain, to see his brother flinch and drop whatever he’s holding when his abused muscles and joints can’t take the strain any more. There has to be something they can do about it. And Max knows he hasn’t been the only one looking…

 

.oOo.

 

“Kyle? Can you help Michael? Or help me help him?”

Kyle shrugs. “It’s not my speciality: I know in theory we’d be looking at re-breaking the bones and aligning them with pins, but in a hand that’s a hell of a job. Assuming your bone structure is fairly human, that is.”         

Max doesn’t know. They’ve never asked these kinds of questions before. They never could. Liz knows them best, but even she couldn’t pull off x-rays. Not now they’re digital and get recorded by computers rather than films that could just disappear conveniently.

Kyle clearly gets the gist of what he hasn’t said. “Alex can help us if it shows up something weird. And I might be able to swing it on fees as a case study, since ortho currently has to get shipped out to Albuquerque unless the base decides to be generous and steps in.”

“You mean you can do it pro bono if you can write it up for your training?” Max checks, because he’s really not sure he’s heard this right. Or that Kyle has considered what he’s saying.

He has, because he laughs. “Yeah, I can. Obviously, we’d have to do some experimenting with how to knock Michael out for the actual surgery, or even just see if I can use acetone as a nerve block, and run my blood in place of his, but yeah. And we’ll work something out for the final scans – see if Alex can fake the date they were taken so you can heal him up right away.”

 

.oOo.

 

They decide to run the initial experiments on Max - no sense in getting Michael all worked up if it isn't going to pan out – and for stage one Kyle sneaks him and Alex into the hospital in the middle of the night so they have access to the x-ray machine, hopefully without interruption.

“Thank God for Google,” Kyle mutters as he sets the machine up following the instructions on his phone, and prays to a deity he doesn't believe in that he's done it right, because that's that radiographers are supposed to be for. But he has, and it only takes minutes for the images to load up. Max is fascinated to see what he looks like on the inside.

Kyle studies the x-rays carefully, counts carpal bones before commenting. “Only six - looks like your triquetrum and pisiform, and your trapezium and trapezoid are both fused, on both hands so they're probably supposed to be like that.”

“Is that a problem?”

Kyle shakes his head. “No, it happens in humans too sometimes. It's rare, but not a big deal. Most people don’t even know they’ve got it. I… How would you feel about a CT, while we're at it? See what the rest of you looks like? Just in case.”

Max frowns at him. “Let's make sure we get away with this first,” he suggests, and Kyle can't disagree with that. This isn't Grey's Anatomy, so he can't just disappear for hours on end, or run whatever tests he feels like on a whim. They do need to be careful, and he and Alex have seen why. He knows they would both rather die than subject anyone to Project Shepard.

Alex hands Kyle a thumb drive. “This is now the only copy - don't lose it. Figured you'd struggle to explain why you've got an x-ray of Max's hands, especially when you take Michael's and that fusion thing shows up in him too.”

And that’s why they keep Manes around - military training is going to save their sorry asses from getting caught. (Also, Michael would go back to being a sarcastic drunken douche, and Kyle is starting to like him. He's good for Alex, if nothing else.)

 

.oOo.

 

Liz gets on board for the next stage of experimenting when the acetone doesn't work like they hoped: it’s an analgesic, not an anaesthetic. She has samples of the yellow powder that knocked Michael out the night of the UFO emporium gala, which is something none of them want to administer in its raw form as they don't know what else it does to the aliens. Kyle personally thinks that having Michael's telekinesis suppressed for the duration of the surgery might not be a bad thing, because he does not want a panicking alien throwing heavy objects at him while he's doing delicate work.

Most of the general anaesthesia drugs are ruled out right away since they all-but destroy Max's cells. Nitrous oxide just makes him giggle, no matter how much they give. Ether works, but makes him violently ill to the point he's still convulsing for the minute or so he's under, and looks miserable for a week afterwards.

The newer local drugs are useless but at least not harmful. Novocaine has some decent effect, finally, but it’s not perfect. Definitely not good enough to be cutting into flesh and breaking bones. But it’s good to know in case they need something less invasive.

Liz’s eyes boggle at the next test, which does not help Max feel reassured.

“Kyle, are you sure?”

“Worth a shot,” he replies, but he doesn’t sound overly happy about it either.

“Fine, but if anything goes wrong, Max, you are taking the yellow stuff.”

Max’s eyes go wide. “That’s not making me feel good about this. What the hell are you giving me?”

The two of them exchange glances before Kyle answers: “Cocaine. It’s medical grade, not the crap they sell on the streets. With the dose we’re giving, it shouldn’t have any of the more recreational side effects but, with you, who knows?”

“Yellow powder before I blow out the power to the whole county – got it.”

They prepared two syringes, just like they always did – one with the real thing, the other with saline as a control. Max wouldn’t know which went in which arm until something happened – if it did at all.

After a few minutes, Max poked at his right hand experimentally. “This one, right?”

“Yes,” Liz confirms, scooting over, prodding stick in hand. It’s something properly medical, but Max has no idea what it’s really called, so it’s a prodding stick. She wields it expertly by now, testing his reactions. He’s not bothered by the fact that she’s poking his hand and he can’t feel it: he’s just happy she’s there. He reaches out with his good hand and tucks her hair behind her ear.

“Max, not now,” she scolds, but she’s smiling at him and he just can’t help himself. He leans over and kisses her. Behind them, Kyle clears his throat noisily, and overhead the lights flicker.

“Crap,” Kyle curses, forcing himself between them. “Here Max, it’s yellow powder time.”

It’s the tiniest amount that Kyle puts under his nose, and Max inhales obediently. It doesn’t change much, the light is still unsteady in a way that probably should be embarrassing and/or worrying, but Max isn’t all that bothered about it. Liz has backed off a bit, but she’s still there. She’s almost always there now, and he can’t remember ever having been happier in his life.

“Well, it’s not quite euphoria, but at least he’s not agitated by it,” Kyle says. “That could have been a lot worse.”

“Hang in there, Max,” Liz tells him. She’s still smiling, but it’s more like that smile he gives people when he’s telling them not to worry even though he knows everything is not okay. “We’re just waiting to see if that kicks in before we give you any more.”

“But the coke works,” he says. Because there is a bright side – they have a way to help Michael after all. They haven’t wasted their time over this.

“It does,” Liz agrees, and her smile gets a bit brighter, a bit more genuine. “Hopefully we can refine it a bit so that you’re not so loopy. Because it’s cute, but not what we’re after.”

Max giggles. “Think what Michael would be like.”

Kyle groans. “I’d rather not,” he says bluntly.

Liz sighs and smooths her hair. “I think we might need to talk to Michael now. He’d be a great help in working out how to get this balanced properly.”

 

.oOo.

 

A second dose of the yellow powder calms Max’s powers down and leaves him a little more lucid. They agree this is a good time to call Michael and explain what they’ve been up to. Kyle actually calls Alex and gets him to bring his boyfriend over, which does help to mitigate Michael’s reaction somewhat when Max cheerfully tells him they’ve been doing experiments on him.

“For you,” Alex adds quickly, pushing Michael over to a chair. “To fix your hand, hopefully.”

“Max has been trialling a method of anaesthesia,” Kyle says. “At the moment, his right hand is completely and utterly numb.”

It is. They’ve scored a line into the skin of his wrist where it can be hidden by a shirt until it heals up, and poked so many needles into him they lost count.

“I’m a little bit high,” Max admits, “but the yellow stuff helps. Kills my powers.”

“Believe me, it’s taken the high off the high too,” Liz says, her eyes soft and her smile fond as she looks over at him. “This is a vast improvement.”

“And we checked out his bone structure too,” Alex adds earnestly, “it’s almost completely human.”

Michael looks unimpressed. “‘Almost completely’?”

“Close enough that I can actually name the bones he’s got,” Kyle says. “Carpal coalition affects about one in every thousand Caucasian humans, and around three in every twenty African-Americans, so it’s well documented. Michael, we can do this. We can numb you and straighten out the bones so that you’re not in pain any more.”

“And then I can heal them up so you’re not in a cage for weeks,” Max puts in.

Max knows his brother; Michael is wavering, but not entirely on board yet, so he adds: “Think of it as the biggest ‘fuck you’ to Jesse Manes ever.”

That surprises everyone into laughter, even Michael, and they all know then they’ve won him over.

 

.oOo.

 

Michael is genuinely touched by the sheer amount of work that has gone into this conspiracy behind his back, because his friends – his family – care enough about him to help him. It’s not something he’s used to, with the upbringing he’s had, and then the heartbreak of Alex going off to war. He knows now that wasn't Alex's choice, that he hadn’t wanted to leave, but that pain was still there.

And personally, Michael thinks that the biggest ‘fuck you’ ever to Jesse Manes would be his ring on Alex's finger, but that was a _long_ way off yet. There is a lot of time for them to make up for, a lot of things that still need to be said. But this would come a very close second.

Kyle, he discovers, is an excellent doctor, and actually understands what they're suggesting. And the first thing he does is talk Michael through what the procedure will involve. He takes Michael’s left hand in both of his, and traces along the damaged bones as he talks. He’s frank about what they need to do, about how they will break Michael’s bones along the old scars and manipulate them into their proper alignment so that Max can heal them up properly. That he’ll have pins in for a few days, so they can be sure that everything has gone well. Michael knows he is squeezing Alex’s hand too hard, but he can’t help it. It’s _hard_ , hearing this, having someone touching his bad hand and talking about breaking bones. It’s probably going to be harder to have it done, and he doesn’t know if he’s happier about the idea of being awake, so he knows what they’re doing, or would rather be asleep but stripped of his autonomy. Although being awake and without his powers is not going to be a walk in the park, even if he agrees with Kyle’s jokey statement that him not being able to throw things around in a drug-induced state is probably a good thing.

When Max comes round to Alex’s cabin later, after Kyle has left, Michael is still jittery. He might not be a rape victim, Max tells him, but he _is_ a survivor of abuse, just like Alex is. It’s hardly surprising that they’ve got some issues – especially concerning his hand. For the first time, Michael realises how quiet Alex has been since Kyle spoke to them.

“I thought you’d be asleep for it,” Alex admits, not daring to look at either of them. “I didn’t think it would be this hard to hear.”

Max gets up, pours them all a glass of Alex’s whiskey, and hands them out. “I’m not going anywhere tonight,” he says. “I’ll sleep out here – with these if necessary.” He gives them a wry grin and pulls some ear plugs out of his pocket – the ones he wears up at the range because Valenti makes all her cops. Alex blushes, but Michael doesn’t have that much shame. He’s honestly not sure if the earplugs will be necessary – at the moment he just wants to wrap himself around Alex and shake. But he also likes the idea of Max sticking around, just being close. It feels good to have people around while he’s feeling vulnerable; a new feeling for him, because he’s so used to having to deal with crap by himself that he knows he pushes people away.

He actually sips at the whiskey rather than downing it: he can appreciate the flavour of something good, and Alex does keep good booze around. And Michael doesn’t really need to get hammered tonight – that seems like a bad idea in this state. He needs to be in control right now, and a bender wouldn’t be conducive to that. He just needs the mellow that a single glass would give. Which is probably exactly the reason Max gave it to him in the first place.

He curls into Alex, which makes Max smile. Even Michael being here, in Alex’s house, is something new for Michael. This wasn’t something he did with the people he hooked up with, and Max is well aware of it.

Michael wonders briefly what the odds are of Alex and Liz coming back to Roswell at the same time, of him and Max finding their soulmates at the same time. It’s pretty far-fetched, but then he always thought the idea of soulmates was too. But there’s no arguing with the fact that Max belongs with Liz and always has – he’s happier now than he has been since high school – and Alex… Alex is the only thing other than music that makes Michael’s brain go quiet. When Alex is around, he’s the most important thing in the world. Michael knows he would do anything to keep Alex safe and well, and his hand is a constant reminder of the bad things in their past; of the man who drove them apart for a decade.

He’s going to get over this shit and get his damn hand fixed. For Alex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW - there is some discussion about medical procedures, and resulting triggering. It's not bad and if you've watched the show so far and been okay, you're more than likely going to be okay with this too.
> 
> Also, Kyle and Liz experiment a bit on Max, with varying results. Nothing too horrifying I hope.
> 
> If you think I've missed something off these warnings or my tags, let me know and I'll add them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael gets with the program.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate me getting back online, here have a bonus chapter of this fic.
> 
> NOTE the rating has gone up, because, well, this is Roswell NM, not OG Roswell, and Malex are involved.

Michael likes working with Liz in the lab – they work well together, and she can keep up with him. Sure, when he starts spouting physics she gets the glazed look of someone in well out of their depth, but in her lab that doesn’t happen very often. And the lab work gives him a purpose – he feels like this is useful. Sure, fixing cars is useful too, but anyone with a GED can do that (in fact, the GED is only needed for the earning money thing, it’s not necessary for the actual repair work); this is something that only he and Liz can do. And they’re doing it. He knows that this is for him, but he tries to look at it as being for Max and Isobel, because that’s easier for his brain to handle. They’re doing this in case either of them gets hurt in the future.

Isobel rolls her eyes when she finds out just how much Max went through to get this project off the ground, and volunteers herself as a test subject too. Michael worries, because they all know what happened when they drugged Max and he’s not sure that drugging Iz is such a good plan what with her being a telepath and all.

“Maybe we should try the pollen first?” Liz suggests, and Michael feels a tiny bit stupid for not thinking about that. This is one of the reasons they make a good team – she can help him cut through some of his mental chaos and reach for the simple things when they need to.

“We need a better name for it,” Michael says instead of agreeing. But he reaches for the jar they keep it in anyway. Maria tosses a pair of gloves in his direction and he catches them before they can fall short (not being the most aerodynamic of things to throw, they didn't make it all the way) and levitated them over. He dislikes the gloves - they make his hands sweat and he wonders how Liz can stand it. But they're necessary for handling this particular drug, because he likes having his powers at his command. The time he and Max had been trapped in the bunker, powerless, had made him feel too vulnerable, and it was bad enough he knew he was going to have to subject himself to it again for the operation without accidental exposure being thrown into the mix. After all, his hand was a reminder of what could happen when he left himself vulnerable.

Although he could readily admit to himself that had he used his powers that day to save himself and Alex, he would have wound up in Caulfield so fast his head would have spun, and it would have put Max and Iz at risk too. That had always been the main consideration with using their powers in public - especially Michael because his was kind of the most obvious. Max might be more showy, but lights fritzed all the time in Roswell, everyone was used to it by now. Things floating and invisible shoves were a bit harder to blame on a faulty power grid, so he was always the one who had to be the most careful.

He carefully measures out a dose of the pollen with a spatula and holds it out to Isobel. She looks distinctly unimpressed.

“What, I have to snort it like a junkie? No offence,” she tosses in Liz's direction.

“Why would I take offence?” Liz asks, her voice laced with ice. “It's not like I was the one with the habit.”

Michael glares at Isobel until she rolls her eyes, presses her right nostril closed, and inhales sharply.

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” he snarks, knowing that unless he and Liz can refine the active ingredient into an actual drug, he is going to have to do the same thing, and probably sooner rather than later so he can see what it feels like before they get him into theater. Because Valenti is right - this is going to be a rough ride, and it’s all well and good knowing what is going to be done to his hand, but if he doesn’t know how he will react to the drugs, then that could be a complication. Noah had violated the thing that made Michael Michael when the bastard stripped him of his powers and he has no idea how he’ll react to being in that situation again - even for a good cause.

Isobel sighs with something like relief when the powder kicks in. She never really talks about how her power works, but he knows she sees it as a burden rather than a gift, especially in the wake of Noah and what he did to her. She is another ‘trauma survivor’, as Kyle and Max likes to refer to him when it comes to his issues with his hand, and at least Michael's issues are pretty run-of-the-mill, mundane in the grand scheme of their whacky lives. He probably could go talk to a shrink if he feels the inclination. Isobel would never have that option. Maybe he should tell DeLuca their little secret and see what she makes of Iz? Good bar tenders are as good as any shrink - especially the slightly psychic ones.

Then again, that would probably mean telling DeLuca about what had really happened to Rosa Ortecho and their part in the cover-up. He feels that probably wouldn't go over too well, even if it would help Liz to have someone who wasn't involved in the conspiracy to talk to.

And he can selfishly admit that it feels good having human friends who knew and accept him for what he is. Adding DeLuca into that number would be great, and not just because of the thing between them that he doesn't know how to talk to Alex about. Because Alex is his world, the person he never really looks away from, the person who could keep him on this miserable planet despite everything, but there's something about DeLuca he can't quite look away from either and he can't help but think it would be easier if Alex were bi too.

That's a serious discussion they need to have some time, see how receptive Alex might be to Michael maybe being poly. He hopes that Alex knows how he feels well enough that he won't be jealous, even though Michael knows that he would be if there was another guy in Alex's life. Damn, but he was bad enough with Valenti and the dude is straight as an arrow. It’s not like Michael has anything to worry about on that front, and he's still jealous that Valenti is spending time with Alex, even if that time is being spent hunting down secret ex-government projects who hunt aliens.

He wishes that Alex was here right now, not for that conversation but to slow his mind down, help him focus on trialling their latest formula. Iz is snapping her fingers in front of his face and looking like she wishes she could get in his head, even though he knows she struggles with him because his mind is a jumble, his own personal high-entropy hell.

“Sorry,” he says as he comes back to the room. It’s probably only been a couple of seconds, for all the thoughts that have gone through his mind in that time. “Stage two?”

They’ve mixed the cocaine, diluted it with novocaine in an attempt to mitigate the fun reaction Max experienced, because that’s equally something they don’t need happening – Michael is going to need to be lucid enough to know he needs to hold still, and Max could barely keep his hands off Liz even after he was dosed with pollen. Also, knowing his luck he’s going to go the other way and get jittery and paranoid from it rather than happy, and Kyle _really_ isn’t going to need that when he’s doing delicate realignments with slender bones.

“Sweater off, Iz,” he says as Liz prepares the injections. They’re going to follow the same protocol as she and Kyle had – injections in both arms and let Iz tell them if things work.

 

.oOo.

 

It’s not a good enough mix – Iz still has some residual sensation that would probably be agony for Michael. They’re going to have to try again, but they don’t have enough test subjects to do this quickly. There are a grand total of three of them, and Max and Michael both have jobs where a numb hand would be a danger – Michael to himself, Max probably to others and it would be noticed by others. Even Isobel has other commitments these days, given that she’s ‘seeking employment’ – she knows she can’t live off Noah’s life insurance forever. The science sibs are just going to have to work faster to refine the formula, and to refine the damn pollen because although it works, it’s not an ideal delivery system and they need a way of controlling its effects better. At the moment it burns off in around fifteen minutes, and that’s nowhere near long enough. At the moment, they’ll have to keep dosing Michael during the surgery.

He eyes the vial he’s pocketed carefully, and he hears Alex sigh.

“I wondered how long it’d take before you decided to try it,” he says. He sounds worried, and Michael thinks he has every right to. Alex is the one who understands him best, the one who gets him and doesn’t take his bullshit: Alex knows without even asking what this is going to do him. Michael is glad he’s here.

“Will you sit with me?” he asks, and Alex gives him a look as if this was ever in any doubt.

“Now and then too,” he says, pressing the thigh of his good leg up against Michael as he sits, taking his hand and holding tightly. “I’ll be right beside you, holding your hand, distracting you.”

Michael raises his eyebrows at that, and doesn’t fight the dirty grin that is almost a reflex these days. “Not sure Valenti’s going to put up with your kind of distractions.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “You’re a dick.”

Michael relents, and leans over to kiss Alex, putting the rush of gratitude and affection into that, because he could get the message across better like that than with actual words.

“I know,” he whispers into the space between them as he rests his forehead against Alex’s. “But I’m your dick.”

Alex tries so hard, but it doesn’t take long for him to snicker. “You are so lucky I’m not kicking you out that door.”

Michael knows that’s an empty threat, and he knows Alex knows he’s aware of that. He takes a deep breath, letting Alex’s presence fill his senses and calm him.

“Right, let’s get this over with.”

He gloves up, carefully measures out a dose of the pollen, and inhales sharply before he can change his mind.

It’s not exactly pleasant, and he has to fight the urge to sneeze – another excellent reason they should distil this down into an injectable formula. But there’s nothing else. He doesn’t feel sleepy or anything; he doesn’t feel different at all. It’s kind of an anti-climax really.

Alex is watching him closely, eyes that are usually soft when looking at him sharp and observant. This is not Alex right now – this is Captain Manes, and Michael kind of thinks it’s a good look for him. For all that Michael has spent his life in fear of being discovered by the military, and he hates that the gentle goth musician he knew back in high school is gone, but that intensity focussed on helping him is kind of a turn on. Michael suspects that if Captain Manes were to make an appearance in the bedroom, he wouldn’t be too upset about it.

He realises that his awareness of the world has shrunk. He’s always had some peripheral awareness of what’s around him, the things his mind can grab hold of and use if he feels inclined, and he had never realised that was unusual until he was trapped in the bunker with Max. Now he knows it’s part of his gift and once more, he’s been stripped of it. He takes a deep breath. This isn’t something to worry over – in fact, it’s one less thing cluttering up his mind.

Alex kisses him again in an obvious attempt to distract him. This time it’s hot and dirty and very very distracting, except for the part where Michael would usually grab a hold of Alex and pull him into his lap. It doesn’t take him long to realise he doesn’t have as much physical strength as he thought he did, and that Alex is fucking heavy, and there’s a bit of him that’s literally made of metal. Alex chuckles and manhandles Michael easily. He’s not used to not being the one in control, and there’s a moment where he wants to panic. He _needs_ to be in control, because that’s how he gets caught. But he’s got Alex holding him, keeping him secure and safe as he straddles his lover’s lap, presses against him. A cool hand moves up to his neck and rubs reassuring little circles at the base of his skull.

“You okay?” Alex asks, even as Michael’s breathing evens out. Michael opens his eyes to find those dark eyes fixed on him. They’ve gone soft again, but there’s a worried set to Alex’s mouth that Michael doesn’t like and he sets about kissing it away. Alex lets him get away with it for a solid couple of minutes before pulling back insistently.

“Come on, Guerin. This experiment doesn’t work if you don’t talk to me. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want the mental associations you’re going to get if sex is your distraction every time we test this stuff out.”

That makes him laugh, but mostly because they’re back to where they started, and Valenti being a homophobic dick. Not on Jesse Manes’ level of dickishness, but Michael remembers high school even if Alex and Valenti are putting it behind them. Even in 2008, high school was not a good place to be gay or bi (Michael wasn’t an idiot; he knew that even now there were places where being out was not a great idea), and they had both suffered for it because of people like Kyle Valenti.

“Seriously, Kyle will throw me out if we start making out right there in the OR.”

“Fine, whatever. No sex next time. Now shut up and let me blow you.”

 

.oOo.

 

They work on Michael’s tolerance to the feeling (or lack thereof) when he takes the pollen whenever they can. He won’t risk it when he’s doing his actual job, if for no other reason than he needs his telekinesis to augment his apparently lacking physical strength, but when they’re at home, or he’s in the lab with Liz, he keeps snorting it. It gets easier, and Liz is a surprisingly soothing presence when he starts to panic. She doesn’t make a big thing of the fact that they now actually have to pass things to each other rather than Michael levitating them. He lays off when Max and Iz come in to be their guinea pigs just in case there’s a disaster and he has to restrain someone. And it does happen once – Iz freaks out on an almost straight dose of cocaine and manages to override the microdose of pollen to get into Liz’s head. Lucky she’s not particularly susceptible to Iz’s mind games even when his sister is on her A game, and it doesn’t take much for them to bring her back under control. The bigger issue is that she freaks over having lost control of her powers and it takes a few days to persuade her that once more it wasn’t her fault, and they would give her a higher dose of the pollen in future so that it couldn’t happen again.

Eventually they get a reasonable mix on the anaesthetic, which doesn’t leave Michael wanting to claw his eyes out watching Max pawing at Liz. They’re grinning when they bring Iz in to confirm their result, and she barely blinks when her left hand goes numb.

They wait until Alex can be there, and his siblings have all limbs functioning, before they dose Michael with it. It’s his first time trying this part out – they all agreed that it should be right before they inflicted it on the really skittish one of them. Max hadn’t needed the pollen at all, but Michael wasn’t risking anything. He knows he’s a basket case and neither Max nor Isobel can hold him back if he really freaks out.

They try it in his right hand first. It’s a gamble – taking Michael’s only good hand from him while he’s got no telekinesis to compensate – but the bad memories associated with his left hand mean that he’d rather they experimented on the other one. If that works, they’ll try the other side another night when Kyle can be there too, and see how Michael tolerates having his hand messed around with.

The drug sends him cold all over, and he knows he’s getting jittery (because of course he would go that way), so he keeps his eyes on Alex. Alex is his calm centre, the one person who makes his mind go quiet. He lets Alex become his whole world, those dark eyes calm and collected as he kissed Michael’s damaged knuckled tenderly. That makes him go warm again, and makes him think about what else Alex could be doing with those lips.

So much for avoiding the sex association. And they’d been doing so well on that front too by using the pollen throughout the day and not just at night in the privacy of their own home. (And when did that happen? When did Michael start thinking of the cabin as home, rather than the Airstream? He doesn’t even know.) Then again, Alex is just one big sex association anyway, with how their relationship started out. They really have to get a handle on that before Michael goes under the knife because Kyle might actually kill them both.

It’s not too bad when he focusses on Alex and that tiny, wicked smirk that promises so much later on. But then Isobel has to open her mouth:

“For fuck’s sake, get a room.”

And the rest of the world floods in and sends his nerves jangling again. Max’s eyes went wide as he looked at Michael, and he smacked Isobel’s arm and shoved her towards the door.

“Not helpful,” he hisses at her as they exit the lab. “If Alex helps, let him help. They’re happy, Iz – don’t ruin this for them,”

Max is right: Michael is actually happy. So much sucks in their lives – the whole debacle at Caulfield, the shitstorm with Noah, Alex’s father, the whole big secret of their existence – but Michael has finally carved out a place that he is happy with, at Alex’s side. He has someone he loves, and he doesn’t have to hide who he is from his friends. (Maria was a bit of a problem, but he’d tell her. Soon. He wasn’t scared of telling her any more.)

That realisation calms him once more, and when Liz is satisfied that Michael is fine and that he has absolutely no sensation whatsoever in his hand, and that he’s had another dose of power-killing dust she leaves them to it. Alex has to do all the work since Michael literally has nothing he can use to help out with right now except his mouth and he doesn’t quite trust that he’s level-headed enough to blow Alex without hurting him. But that’s a nice change of pace too, Michael just letting someone take care of him.

(Michael takes care of Alex once they’re back home and he’s got the feeling back in his hand and his powers at his command – he cooks, and then he reduces Alex to a quivering, begging mass of gorgeousness. Because Alex deserves to know how much he means to Michael.)


End file.
